In a situation where there are many strong martial artists stationed, Dragon Sleep Valley would not launch an attack lightly.
At this moment, in the heart of the battle zone.
Within a newly-built arena-like structure.
The ground is spacious, emitting a cold, faint light.
Two figures stand at opposite ends, confronting each other from a distance.
On the right, stands a brawny man with his upper half bare, his muscles knotted and bulging.
Red flames slowly rise around his body, like smoke, like fire, accompanied by the faint sounds of chains being split asunder, fueling a violent, terrifying gale.
"To seal one's physical strength with shackles and to cut oneself free when necessity dictates – that's extremely ruthless."
"But if he weren't that ruthless, how could General Wutai have forged such an immensely powerful path for himself?"
Inside the arena, there are a few spectators.
